Happy Muggle Honeymoon
by Bianca tabbycat
Summary: "Since we had a Wizarding wedding, it's only fair if we have a Muggle honeymoon." Hermione turned to her husband with wide eyes. "Please?" Draco soon agreed. "I am completely whipped," he thought. And surprisingly, he rather liked it. A Dramione drabble.


**Happy Muggle Honeymoon**

_Summary: "Since we had a Wizarding wedding, it's only fair if we have a Muggle honeymoon." Hermione turned to her husband and stared at him and those big, doe-like eyes of hers. "Please?" Draco sighed and grumbled before he agreed. _He was completely whipped_, he thought. And surprisingly, he rather liked it. A Dramione drabble._

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><p>"Draco!"<p>

The male grunted and pulled the Egyptian cotton sheets over his head, blocking out the sudden bright ray that one associates with the late morning sunshine. He had engaged in some – ahem – tiring, passionate, but altogether pleasant activities last night, and well, a grown male like him needs his beauty sleep, right?

And so he relaxed, ignored the vigorous shaking of the bed, and patted all around himself, searching for the warm, soft, vanilla-smelling body that _should _be curled up with him, long eyelashes brushing her soft skin and her mouth slightly open in slumber, an expression of contentment and calmness on her features.

"Draco! Wake up! You _have _to see this!" A squealing object pounced on him, straddling him as it rocked back and forth. Wait a sec. The voice sounded familiar… The Slytherin's muddled mind tried placing the voice to the appropriate person. It was obviously a female, he thought, from the high-pitched squealing that practically ruined his sensitive hearing. But _who_ would have the nerve to disturb him like that?

His mother? Nah… He moved out ages ago, and Narcissa would be out doing her weekend shopping or whatnot, anyway. Pansy? His nose wrinkled as the image of the pug-faced girl popped up in his mind. Ugh. He had never liked the girl. He was only ever friends with her under Lucius' instructions, and she had always been under the impression that they were somehow more than friends. Yuck. He was going to puke at the idea of him and Pansy, _married_; that's how repulsive she was.

He blearily lifted a heavy eyelid, and cringed immediately at the bright – _too _bright – sunshine that was pouring through the open window and directly on his face. He closed his eyes again, throwing his arm across his face to cover his poor, poor eyes. He was sure he would never have perfect 20-20 vision again.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy! Get your lazy arse out of that damn bed right _now_ or I'll make sure you can never have sex as long as you live! _Never_!"

Hearing this threat of no more shagging made Draco jump out of bed as if he'd just discovered a giant python hidden between the sheets and was running for his life. It was a while before his brain caught up with his eyes, and recognized the squealing/straddling object as his wife, one Hermione Malfoy.

"Hermione?" he slurred, rubbing sleepy dust from his eyes. "What are you doing up so early in the morning?"

He scowled, falling backwards on the bed, and pulled the sheets over his face once again. "It's too bright for me to be up…"

His safety haven was ripped off his head, and Draco soon found moist, soft lips pressed against his own. He responded enthusiastically, his fingers tangling in the mass of curly caramel hair, savoring the sweet peachy taste of her lip balm before Hermione pulled away right in the middle of the kiss, and just when the good part was about to happen too.

"Damn you!" Draco pouted, crossing his arms like an impertinent child. "You shouldn't tease me like that. I'm your husband; I have the right to kiss you whenever, wherever, and however I want!"

"I'm sorry, but it was the only way to wake you up!" Hermione had the decency to look ashamed, but that passed as quickly as it had come when she recalled the reason she had woken her edgy husband before he woke up himself. She still remembered the time when Draco had nearly hit her with an _Incendio _when he thought she was a Death Eater, coming to murder him as revenge for turning against the Dark Lord.

"Well, what _was _the thing you wanted to show me?" Draco looked at her with a childishly hopeful look plastered on his face. "It's not my birthday or Christmas or our anniversary, right? 'Cause if it is, I forgot to get something for you, but who cares?"

Hermione smiled fondly, ruffling his platinum blond hair affectionately. "No, silly, it's not. But look!" She brandished a piece of paper in front of his nose, causing him to go cross-eyed in an attempt to see. Giving up, he grabbed the brightly-colored advertisement – which looked as if a color-blind child had scribbled all over it with his crayons – and held it a reasonable distance away. It read:

_Experience life in the air!_

Draco looked at Hermione oddly; didn't she always say she was afraid of flying? She just grinned, and motioned for him to read on.

_Do you want to have a honeymoon different from all your continuously bragging friends? The Sunshine Travel Agency now has that unique place made especially for loving couples!_

_This hotel located in lovely Singapore, Asia, is certainty superior to any other. Suspended on metal poles are what appear to be rose-pink spheres. Do not laugh at that image; inside is a very different matter. The "spheres" are divided into two – the upper floor and the lower one. They are the honeymoon suites, furnished with a king-sized bed, an open kitchen, a balcony, and other necessary facilities. You can always enjoy a romantic candle-light dinner with your other half, and if you've rented the upper floor, then you could stargaze while making yourself comfortable on the fur rug._

_Located just a roller-coaster ride away is a garden, golf course, swimming pool, and even a bungee-jump! Again, they are all suspended in mid-air. Have the time of your life as you enjoy a stroll through the sweet-smelling rose maze; relax as the cool water lap against your skin; and scream in exhilaration as the air rushes past, faster than you could ever imagine._

_Sounds interesting and exciting enough for you? Then contact us by calling 0864 296 329! Hurry before all spots are taken!_

_*Warning: The Sunshine Travel Agency advises people who suffer from heart diseases, acrophobia, or similar health conditions to stay away._

Draco finished reading the flyer out loud and snorted at the mere idea of such a place. "Continuously bragging friends? Rose-pink spheres? Where in the name of Salazar do these Muggles _get_ their ideas?" He squinted at the fuzzy photos on the glossy pamphlet.

The descriptions were right. There _were_ rose-pink spheres suspended on metal poles, looking just like lollipops, along with tracks that went in loops and circles leading from one hanging flat disk to another. On the flat disks, there was the fabled rose maze, with a platform on which a man was crouching, readying himself to spring with just what looked like an enlarged rubber band attached. The whole place in – where was it again? – Singapore was a disaster waiting to happen.

"_Why _do you want me to look at this again?" Draco waved the pamphlet, using it to fan himself. "It's of no use at all, except to entertain me and laugh at all these Muggles and their absurd, silly ideas."

"Draco!" Hermione chastened, smacking the back of his head lightly. "You shouldn't insult them. They're just like us in every other aspect, apart from the fact that they don't possess magic."

"That wasn't what I meant! I mean, I have proper respect and all for some of them –" Hermione looked unsatisfied by that fact, " – but _these _wackos?" Draco gestured violently to the innocent-looking flyer lying abandoned on the floor. "They're gambling with people's _lives_. Just look at those lollipops! It could topple over easily in a tornado. And those cart-like things on tracks that aren't even level to the ground; it could fall off! Don't you see the effing point, Hermione? These – people – are – crazy!"

Hermione had stared at Draco the whole time he had been ranting, fighting to keep a smile from reaching her lips. It was amusing, to say the least, to see him so _concerned _about the Muggles' safety. He looked so damn hot, too, when he was arguing a point he supported; it was no wonder he was dubbed the "Slytherin Prince". She still couldn't believe how blind she had been in Hogwarts, not noticing Draco's infatuation with her until that Ministry Charity Ball. He had been one of the greatest donors, of course, and they had met again that blessed Christmas Eve four years ago.

"You aren't listening at all!"

Her train of thought was broken by the complaint, and she turned her attention back to her husband. "Draco, those metal poles are drilled deep into the ground, so they aren't going to collapse so easily, believe me. As for the tracks, they're roller coaster rides; of course they wouldn't be level! It's the excitement of being upside-down that makes you want to go on them, after all."

"Really?" Draco looked skeptical, and he looked at her with his head tilted to one side as he considered the possibility of a cart which goes upside-down as "fun".

"Yes, Draco, really," Hermione assured him, wrapping her arms around his torso and inhaling his masculine musky scent that was uniquely Draco himself. If they ever had children – which was an argument she was determined to win – she imagined it would be much like talking to her husband when he was in one of his moods. "It's just like going on a broom, with the difference that it's much safer than just a stick of wood with twigs attached at the end."

"It is _not _a stick with twi –" Draco protested, but was cut off by Hermione's declaration: "And I want to go there too."

Draco observed his wife with a frown on his face. _Did she just say she _wants_ to go to that hazard area?_

"Yes, Draco, I did say that."

_Damn. I really need to stop his habit of thinking out loud._

"Yes, you really should."

_Did I say that again? Anyway, I'll worry about that later; no way in hell am I going to let Hermione go off to that Sing-a-pour place alone._

"It's Singapore, Draco, and you don't have to. You are coming with me. Didn't it say here? _Honeymoon suites_."

"What? But we're already married for, like…" Draco counted the years mentally. "Three years! We don't _need_ a honeymoon."

"But Draco…" Hermione whined, tugging on his arm. "We didn't have a honeymoon _at all_! Don't you remember? There wasn't time after the wedding to have a honeymoon; you were just taking over Malfoy Inc. after your father died. So we _have _to have a honeymoon to celebrate our anniversary. Please?"

Hermione stared into Draco's molten silver eyes, hands clasped together and held under her chin like a dog begging for treats. Draco groaned mentally as he was forced to look in those big, chocolate-brown, doe-like orbs of hers. They were definitely the windows to Hermione's soul; they seemed to express every single emotion she felt. Right now, they were saying that Hermione was desperate, very desperate.

Closing his eyes tightly to shut out those puppy-dog eyes, he took deep breaths to steady himself. _That's it, Draco_, he thought to himself. _Take deep breaths, and focus on not giving in to her requests. In, out, in, out…_

"Draco… _Please?_"

The tone of Hermione's voice caught his attention. Deciding that one tiny little peek wouldn't hurt, he slowly prised an eye open… And both of his eyes widened in horror and terror. Dear Merlin, was Hermione going to _cry_? Her lower lip was quivering dangerously, and her eyes were watery-looking.

If there was one thing in the world which Draco Malfoy was woefully terrified of, it was a woman _crying_. And if said woman happens to be his wife… Let's just say he'll avoid it at all costs.

Draco backed slowly away, grimacing as his back hit the wall. _Cornered_, he thought grimly to himself. He watched helplessly as Hermione did her puppy-dog eyes thing again, this time completed with the "look", like she'd break down at any moment without warning.

Draco gulped and was considering the option of Apparating out when a lone tear slipped down Hermione's cheek.

"Fine!" he half-shouted, arm raised as if to defend himself. "I'll come with you!"

Hermione squealed and bounced up and down excitedly, all traces of tears gone. "Really? You will? You promise?"

Draco sighed. _I am completely whipped_, he thought. "Well, I said I would, didn't I?"

Hermione beamed, already at the door with a long bound. "Start packing!" she instructed over her shoulder. "I've already booked the room and applied for the International Apparating License!"

Draco glazed after his wife, his brow wrinkled. How _did _she know he'd agree?

_*Happy Muggle Honeymoon*_

Instead of heading for the store room to retrieve her suitcase, she slipped into the bathroom instead, placing the strongest Silencing and Locking Charms she knew on the door, even though the possibility of Draco trying to listen in on her conversation wasn't high. Still, it was better to be safe rather than sorry.

She slipped the Wizarding World's newest invention out of her pocket – a magical equivalent of a cell phone, available only to the elite class of society for the moment. Speed-dialing her mother-in-law, Hermione waited a tad impatiently for her to pick up while listening to Celestina Warbeck's newest song – _I Will Die For You_ – over and over again.

"_Hello?" _A faint voice came over the line. _"Narcissa speaking."_

"Cissa! It's me," Hermione said as a way of explanation, a broad grin on her face.

"_Hermione!" _Narcissa's tone lost its icy cold quality when she realized it was her. _"Well? How'd it go? Did he fall for it?"_

"It worked like a charm," Hermione smiled as she recalled Draco's horrified face at her acting. "He fell for it, hook, line, and sinker."

"_That's _great_, sweetheart!" _The elder Malfoy gushed happily. _"What did I tell you, huh?"_

"That it'll always work. I know, I know," Hermione soothed. She bursted into giggles once more at the scene replaying in her mind. "It's amazing what onions could do to male Malfoys – though I must say I'm glad I don't have to do it that often. The onions sting."

"_Oh, well…" _the Gryffindor could imagine Narcissa shrugging at the other end of the connection. _"It worked. What can I say?"_

"Nothing, that's what. By the way –" Hermione was interrupted by a rapping on the bathroom door.

"Hermione, are you in there?" Draco's voice sounded worried as he continued knocking on the door. "What are you doing with the onions on the counter?"

"Oh, shit," Hermione cussed. "Draco's outside the door."

"_Then you'd better get off, dear. See you after the honeymoon?"_

"Sure. Bye!" Hermione snapped the phone shut, removed the charms, then opened the door and headed for the kitchen, telling her husband the onions were for breakfast along with the potatoes.

At a high-class café at the corner of Diagon Alley, Narcissa stared at her phone, where a photo of Hermione smiling and waving looked up at her from the screen.

"Well," she murmured to herself. "It is at times like this when I think that girl is too much like a Slytherin for her own good.

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><p><em>AN: Well, this certainly was a weird drabble, wasn't it? To me, at least… Anyway, this little fic is dedicated to my best friend and sister, __**Zoe tabbycat**__. If you like the title of Celestina Warbeck's newest song, thank her! :D_

_Another thing, as well. Let's play "let's pretend". You can be the examiners of my OWLs. To submit your grade for this story, press the lovely blue button below my name and type either "Outstanding", "Exceed Expectations", "Acceptable", "Poor", "Dreadful" or "Troll", though I sincerely hope it wouldn't be the last three._

_Enjoy marking! :D_

_Bianca tabbycat_


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